Chapter 11 - Mom, you are like a goddess!!

Walter Krüger’s Perspective

After severing his opponent’s hand, the assassin stood there in shock. Seeing the opportunity, Walter immediately thrust his sword into the man’s stomach, ending the fight with a decisive strike.

As the assassin’s body began to lose balance and stagger, he still managed to whisper weakly,

"I… I won’t accept this… You didn’t defeat me… fairly…"

Walter snorted, wiping the blood from a small cut on his lip.
"Fairly, huh? This isn’t a battlefield, and you’re no soldier—you’re just a killer. There’s no such thing as 'fair' for someone like you."

The assassin fell silent for a moment. His body weakened and dropped to his knees. Clutching the hilt of the sword still lodged in his stomach, he let out a faint, broken laugh.

"Yeah… just killers, huh… haha… haha… ha…"

The laughter slowly faded, and with one final breath, his body froze in death.

Walter sighed and rubbed a small cut on the side of his stomach. "Very accurate… I have to thank him," he muttered under his breath, glancing in the direction the arrow had come from. His gaze sharpened, the presence of a skilled archer becoming apparent. Whoever had shot that arrow, it wasn’t just luck.

Paul’s Perspective

An ice arrow—imbued with magic—shot from behind and quickly struck my leg.
—CLANK!—
My exo-armor’s leg was cleanly severed. The detached leg frame was flung into the air, disappearing into the darkness.
“Damn… I was careless…” I muttered, staring blankly at the spot where my exo-armor’s leg vanished into the shadows of the night.

My body remained inside the cockpit, but the sudden loss of both leg frames caused my armor to begin its descent onto the steep rooftop.
Then, suddenly, I found myself unable to move. I was suspended in mid-air, enveloped by a creeping cold magic that spread throughout the cockpit.
Even more startling, the frozen armor I wore began to move on its own, drifting as if guided by an unseen force.
It wasn’t my doing—something had taken control, pulling this legless armor in the direction it desired.
Just as I was about to be overwhelmed by confusion at this turn of events, an unexpected voice resounded.

"Who are you, and where is my son?" The voice was sharp and commanding, filled with unmistakable authority.

Turning to see the attacker clearly, I froze—not from the ice, but from shock.

Sure enough… my mother.

White hair, blue eyes… and, uh, her chest was… noticeably bigger. (E cup? Weren’t they C size when I was a baby?)

I stood there, stunned and trying to process the surreal sight in front of me. How was she here? Why was she here? The ice magic still crackled around my armor, but all my focus was on the woman who stood before me—my mother.

I was still speechless when she demanded again, this time firmer.

Seeing me fall silent, my mother narrowed her sharp eyes. In a cold, cutting tone, she said, “I’ll ask you one more time… Where is my child? Answer, or I will torture—”
But before she could finish, I shouted, panicked,
“Stop, Mom! It’s me! It’s me—Paul!”
I blurted out desperately, terrified she might kill me before realizing the truth.

Hearing that, she gasped, covering her mouth. “Paul…?”

She quickly waved her wand, and the ice magic was dispelled.

As soon as the magic was gone, I collapsed onto the roof, barely catching my balance with one hand. With my other, I reached up and pulled off my face shield.

"Look... it's me. Your son. Paul." I said with a smile.

"Paul!!" she cried, rushing over and hugging me tightly. "My child…!"

I was still processing everything when she suddenly pulled away and examined me closely.

"But why are you so big? You’re as tall as an adult!"

"Ah… yeah… because this is my toy, ma’am," I answered, blushing slightly.

She stared at me, her expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Toy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh… long story," I mumbled, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "Let's just say... magic and armor, and... well, stuff." I didn’t really know how to explain it all.

Hearing my weird explanation, my mother raised an eyebrow but chose not to question it further. She scanned the area and, seeing that things had calmed down, asked, "It seems safe now, son. Can you get down, or do you need help?"

I glanced down at my exo-armor—its leg frames were already severed.
Then, with a sulking face, I looked toward the darkness of the night—where the broken leg part had last flown and vanished.
"Looks like… I can’t," I muttered.
Letting out a sigh, I reached out my hand to her.
"Ma’am… I think my toy is broken," I said in a resigned tone.

She smiled softly, shaking her head. "Always getting yourself into trouble."

She chuckled, pulled me into her arms, and said, “Yosh…”

"Paul, ready?" she asked, her voice steady and calm.

Before I could respond, she leapt off the roof, taking us both down with a graceful, almost effortless movement. It felt like the world around me slowed, and for a moment, I had the impression of being in the embrace of something divine. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Even though I was staring at her face, the thought crossed my mind—she really does look like a goddess.

Her white hair shimmered as she moved, and her blue eyes glowed with a power I hadn’t truly understood until now. It wasn't just her beauty; it was the sheer strength and wisdom that radiated from her. She was a force of nature, calm and composed even in the midst of chaos.

I couldn't help but feel both small and safe in her presence. We landed softly.

On the Ground

Not long after we landed, Ranya appeared, still in her black assassin attire and mask, but it wasn't clean anymore. There were lots of cuts and dust here and there. As soon as she was in front of my mother, she knelt down and spoke,
"Queen."

Seeing her, my mother frowned. "Where were you? And why weren’t you by my son’s side?" Her voice carried a hint of anger.

Ranya remained kneeling, her posture unwavering despite the clear exhaustion in her eyes. "I was dealing with a few complications," she replied, her voice steady but laced with fatigue. "The enemy was more organized than expected, and I had to ensure that the castle’s perimeter was secure."

My mother’s frown deepened, but she didn’t immediately lash out. Instead, she glanced at me and then back at Ranya. "You should have been by his side. He's not capable of defending himself like this, especially in that armor." Her tone softened slightly, but the reprimand was clear.

Sensing things were about to get complicated, I quickly intervened.
"Mom, I was the one who told Renya to deal with the assassins outside. We had no idea they could suddenly appear in my room like that!" I said in a panicked tone, trying to defend Renya as she was being scolded.

Hearing my explanation, my mother immediately relaxed. "Is that so… alright." She didn’t press the issue further.

Then she asked, "So… who were they?" looking around at the aftermath.
Without thinking, I answered, "Don’t know… but they were definitely professional soldiers. Not real assassins." In my indifferent tone.
My mother narrowed her eyes at me. "You know quite a lot, huh?"
"Yeah… I saw it from the roof, so I just… know," I said awkwardly, turning my face away.

As we were talking, someone approached us—Walter Krüger, the head guard. He knelt slightly before my mother and lowered his head.
"Queen… thank you for your support. I didn’t know you were a professional crossbow shooter."

Hearing that, my mother looked back at me—with a smile.
For some reason, seeing the evil smile on my mother’s face, I suddenly had a very bad feeling.